Tina The Bunny Maid -final- By Mikiy -

They spent the day doing nothing of importance. They ate breakfast in the greenhouse—moon-carrot omelets and starlight jam. They walked through the Hall of First Meetings, and he pretended not to remember the day she arrived, but she caught him smiling. In the afternoon, they sat on the roof, watching the impossible sun of the Estate’s pocket dimension bleed gold and rose across the sky.

Tina spun, duster raised like a sword. A small, spider-like automaton clung to the adjacent gear. Its single ruby eye flickered weakly. This was Pipsqueak, the Viscount’s long-forgotten clockwork valet, half-crushed in a wardrobe accident forty years ago. Tina the Bunny Maid -Final- By MikiY

“Then why did you do it?” he asked. “Why give yourself another day of goodbye?” They spent the day doing nothing of importance

“And when the sun sets, the chrono-core will shatter. The Lichen will return. And I will…” In the afternoon, they sat on the roof,

Tina knew the tea was not cold. She had made it just moments ago, in the timeline that no longer existed. But she played along.

She opened the inspection panel. Inside, the great brass gears were not rusted. They were petrified . A crystalline fungus had grown between the teeth, locking everything in place. Tina touched it with a gloved fingertip. It was cold. And it was spreading.